


mixers

by brandywine421



Series: romcoms [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-07 15:31:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17368565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: He wasn't sure what kind of restaurant would be in a mismatched building like this in the center of newly gentrified Hell's Kitchen.But he'd worked in enough upscale restaurants to know a good tip when he heard one and someone he trusted saidLycanthropehad a full time bartender job about to open up. He'd been a good soldier, a shitty husband but he was an amazing bartender."We don't open until 5 and you need a reservation and a tie," a huge security guard announced before he made it to the lobby.He held up his hands instinctively and turned to face him which seemed to relax the guard. "Heard about a bartender position, told me to ask for Jessica Jones.""Name?" the guard demanded, but he pulled a phone from his pocket instead of a taser so Frank counted it as a win."Frank Castle." The guy stared at him blankly. "Sorry, Karen Page gave me the tip."The guard sighed heavily. "Leave it to her to vet her own replacement. I'm Luke, I'll see if the boss is up for an interview."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! Officially starting romcom #2 now. Let's see how this goes...

  
Frank looked up at the renovated warehouse with restored brick and utterly terrifying gargoyles leering at him from the misplaced columns that lined the valet line.

He wasn't sure what kind of restaurant would be in a mismatched building like this in the center of newly gentrified Hell's Kitchen.

But he'd worked in enough upscale restaurants to know a good tip when he heard one and someone he trusted said _Lycanthrope_ had a full time bartender job about to open up. He'd been a good soldier, a shitty husband but he was an amazing bartender.

"We don't open until 5 and you need a reservation and a tie," a huge security guard announced before he made it to the lobby.

He held up his hands instinctively and turned to face him which seemed to relax the guard. "Heard about a bartender position, told me to ask for Jessica Jones."

"Name?" the guard demanded, but he pulled a phone from his pocket instead of a taser so Frank counted it as a win.

"Frank Castle." The guy stared at him blankly. "Sorry, Karen Page gave me the tip."

The guard sighed heavily. "Leave it to her to vet her own replacement. I'm Luke, I'll see if the boss is up for an interview."

Frank's alarms were going off from all sides. "Wait - I thought Jessica was the current bartender, I'm not dressed for an interview with the boss."

Luke grinned at him and held open the door to lure him into the lobby. "Boss doesn't care what you look like for the interview, but you better be able to live up to Karen's drinks if you're dropping her name." He whistled sharply and a floppy-haired guy appeared from a far door in a flowery apron. "Foggy - you got eyes on the boss?"

"He's pouting about Karen in the office, she threatened to make him do interviews. Who's that?"

Luke pointed Frank toward the polished bar and he paused to mentally map the bottles too far out of his price range to ever taste himself but familiar in his hands for a pour. "Make her favorite drink, if you're her friend - "

"I got it," he nodded, cracking his knuckles. Foggy joined him at the counter when Luke disappeared through another side door. Frank appreciated the number of exits and sight-lines in the open floor plan.

"You know Karen?"

"I know she's going to culinary school in France to learn Pastry, like a loser," Frank replied and the guy lit up like birthday cake.

"Right? Like she needs a degree to make delicious bite-sized treats," Foggy said. "I mean, I have one, but I was a great chef before I got a piece of paper."

Frank broke off a sprig of fresh mint and shifted the liquid into the shaker with ice as Luke returned with a blind man that he recognized immediately from Maria's TMZ stream in her kitchen.

Matt Murdock, famed widower of heiress Elektra Natchios. He was already known in the kitchen for saving Old Man Dennis and getting blinded as a kid, and with the sudden death of Battlin' Jack Murdock for spice - the whole 'assassinated wife' only made the man more tragic after his return to the States after losing her.

No wonder Karen never told him who she worked for. Murdock was rarely photographed locally, the Kitchen would shank a paparazzo for getting too close to their prodigal hometown hero. Frank had only seen him on camera at charity events, giving bitch-face to Tony Stark or grinding on whatever Captain America was drunk enough to hit on him.

If nothing else made him a fan, the guy's apparent distaste for Iron Man's flash was an automatic plus in Frank's book. The way he wore his suits didn't hurt.

Murdock was wearing his patented bitch-face when Luke led him over to the bar where Frank uselessly wiped down the dry bar and placed a napkin.

"That's Karen's favorite drink?" Murdock asked, motioning to the shaker.

"Nope," Frank replied, pouring the mojito into a glass for himself and placing a bottle of beer on the napkin for the millionaire.

Luke and Foggy whistled in unison and Murdock slowly tilted his head at Frank in silent study.

"Jessica's call, he's good to go," Matt said finally, wrapping his fingers around the bottle and flashing bruised knuckles as he raised the bottle to his mouth. Frank was distracted a moment by the ripple of his throat as he drank the cheap beer.

"Welcome to _Lycanthrope_ , Frank," Luke laughed.

 

* * *

 

 

He didn't see the 'boss' again for the next couple of weeks, training with Karen and getting to know the staff kept him distracted but didn't keep the list of questions about Matt Murdock from growing in his head.

It was his first night on the bar solo but he was prepared with Matt's 'standing order' of personal scotch when the man appeared like a ninja at the end of the empty bar while the early reservations started to trickle into the dining room.

Matt smiled his thanks when Frank placed the glass on the bar, swirling it around for a moment to sniff. "Impressive."

"Karen threatened me thoroughly if I fuck it up," Frank said.

"I miss her already," Matt admitted. "She's a good friend."

"Preaching to the choir."

"You date?"

Frank wanted to misinterpret the question and twist it into an invitation but it was too soon - he had a list of questions to gather first. "Didn't work out, she's way out of my league."

"Ditto," Matt said. He raised his hand and extended his ring finger in a questioning gesture. "I'm fishing, Frank."

At least he was honest.

"Got an ex-wife, couple of kids. It's cool, though, her new husband knows the rules," Frank said, narrowing his lips into a firm line. Matt raised an eyebrow. "We're in the same bowling league and I'll get him blacklisted from all the local alleys if he breaks her heart."

"Cold," Matt smiled, tipping his glass toward him before drinking 357 dollars worth of scotch in a single gulp.

Frank blinked at him. "Pretty sure you're supposed to sip on that."

"Gets the taste of blood off your teeth," he muttered absently and Frank turned his full attention to his new boss. "Glass of Chardonnay, '99 for table eight. She doesn't like the scallop dish and is going to send it back - not because it's wrong but because she didn't know what a scallop was," he added, raising his hand to signal one of the servers.

"What's the vibe, Boss?" Trish asked, noting Frank prepping the wine.

"Table eight's a - what's Foggy's word for it? Fake taffy. The scallop dish isn't vegan at all, it's a cream sauce and her date's Paleo - " Matt started but the blonde tapped his knee and he silenced.

"On it. I'll slip her the vegan menu on the sly. How many drinks have you had tonight?"

"Not enough. My masseuse is coming later," he said and Frank snorted as he set out the glass of wine.

"Don't make fun of the boss," Trish glared at him before swaggering over to table eight.

"You have a personal masseuse, for real?" Frank asked before he accidentally lost his job.

Matt shrugged and pushed his glass forward. "Got some hip problems that turn into back problems if I skip on stretches when I work out. Don't like drugs, but I'm allowed a .09 blood alcohol content when I'm off the clock."

He figured Matt got to decide when he was 'on' or 'off' the clock at any time and splashed another $357 of scotch into the glass. "Don't mean nothing by it. You just seem like a pretty healthy guy, apart from the eyes."

Matt flashed that boxer-dropping grin. "You're new, you'll figure it out."

"Fair enough. But Taffy?"

"Like the candy, _Airheads_ aka fake taffy, per our executive chef's code," Trish explained on her way past the bar with the returned scallops.

"Yeah, I'll figure it out," Frank muttered when Matt chuckled under his breath.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

"So. What's Frank's real story?" Matt asked, mapping Jessica's trek though his apartment as she flipped through his mail with the ever-persistent visitor Danny Rand following close on her heels.

"None of your business, we do not need a fling messing up your pristine record. Say thank you."

"Thank you," he repeated. He would always say it when she prompted him, he owed her everything. "But if Karen okay-ed him then he must have enough clearance for - "

"Nope, not happening - we have a major shitstorm heading our way and you're totally not allowed to bring a new variable into the mess," Jessica said.

He knew she was right, fuck, that's what he paid her to be. His life was too complicated - his simplified plan of dropping out of college and eloping with his soulmate _(thereby abandoning ninja wars and vigilante dreams to be a celebutante's husband)_   had netted him a lifetime of regrets.

Jessica sprawled on the couch beside him and they both let Danny putter around until he sat down, too. One day Matt would pay Jess to make him be nice to the kid billionaire.

"Not in the restaurant," Matt said finally and Jessica stiffened at his side.

Danny leaned forward. "Does that mean you'll take a meeting?"

Matt had put off meeting with the 'stockholders' after a singular meet-and-greet after inheriting Elektra's business. If it had been a _normal_ company, he would have sold the stocks off to the highest bidder and washed his hands of the whole mess - but Elektra loved complexity and left him all her complications.

He couldn't exactly turn over the reins to a centuries-old crime and mysticism ring to - well - anyone. But Elektra loved her secrets until they ' _killed_ ' her and damned him.

"Stalling's worked this far, why break with tradition?" Jessica asked.

"Because it's been three years and they're getting really snippy about it," Danny sighed.

"She wants to see the restaurant, that's her angle. I've been watching the business, it's more profitable than it's ever been - the only reason they're forcing the meeting is so she can judge me," Matt said.

Danny snickered and Jessica didn't scold him because she was muffling her own laughter. He raised both middle fingers. "Sorry, just, you're not worried they're going to kill you - you're just worried about your ex hating the decor?"

"I thought she designed the decor," Jessica said, pushing off the couch to go for drinks. God, she was the best assistant slash bodyguard slash wing-woman ever.

"She did, but when she turned up soulless and evil, I changed everything to stuff she hates," Matt said. "It's not petty."

" _So petty_ ," Danny whispered.

"Wait, that puts a whole new spin on it. This isn't a chance for evil ninjas to assassinate you - this is a chance for you to stick it to your ex-wife."

"We didn't get a divorce, she died. I'm still in mourning, don't mock my pain," Matt corrected with a dramatic flail of his arm.

"Oh my God, I _love_ you guys," Danny clapped.

"Think about it, Murdock. The restaurant's your epic 'fuck off' to Elektra, so don't make it a private party - plan a super-elite gala with all Daredevil's friends out of uniform, make it the fucking society thing of the season or something," Jessica said, pressing a glass of corner-store whiskey into his hand, the kind his Dad used to drink.

"It'll be hard for anyone to kill you surrounded by your buddies, cameras or not," Danny hummed. "Doesn't that wizard guy have a time-travel spell in case you do get shanked?"

"God, please don't - " Matt inhaled - he didn't want Stephen Strange at his party - his wife was fine, but the Doc gave him the creeps.

"And best thing ever - you **have** to bring a date," Jessica hissed. "Let that undead bitch see you with some living arm-candy so she can tell she didn't break you forever."

"That escalated quickly," Danny said after a beat. But it did give Matt an idea.

"Sorry, I just - _dislike_ her greatly," Jessica huffed.

"Thank you," Matt said. Considering how many times Jessica and Elektra had thrown down over the past three years, anything less than hate was appreciated. "But you told me, like, five minutes ago that I wasn't allowed to start dating."

"Not someone without clearance," Jessica replied after a beat.

"Do you want to be my - " Matt started.

"I will bite your face off," Jessica stated.

Matt smiled at the answer he totally expected. "Danny?"

"Oh, sorry, I have a girlfriend - " Danny stammered.

Matt skimmed his fingers over his phone. "Call Colleen." Danny squeaked unhappily and Jess snatched his phone.

"Frank can't work the bar at the party if he's dating you," Jessica sighed, tapping an apology, he hoped, to Colleen for bothering her.

He shrugged. "He'll still need clearance. He said he was sorry about my loss when we hired him, so he knows Elektra's dead but he probably doesn't know her totally not-made-up twin sister is on the board of Chaste Hands Enterprises."

"If Matt likes the guy, then you should be supportive," Danny said.

"Your girlfriend is totally dumping you and being Matt's date for the party," Jessica said, continuing to tap Matt's phone.

"Tell the board that details will be sent out tomorrow at 12:37 pm, the exact time my beloved wife was killed while I am crying a single tear of woe," Matt decided.

Jessica muttered under her breath. "And I'll tell Castle to come in early so you can fill him in when you're telling Foggy why he's not allowed to poison his mortal nemesis."

"Foggy would never - " Matt protested.

"Yeah, not it - you're telling him, I'll be working on security and invitations for this clusterfuck. Oh, Colleen's got an ex on the board so you'll need to have your best swagger turned on for the party, Rand."

Matt held up his hand when he sensed Danny's ire sparking to life. "You're not allowed to challenge anyone to a duel inside my restaurant, it's a rule."

 

* * *

 

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about," Maria reassured him outside of the restaurant. She was doing him a favor with the ride, the surprise meeting at work wouldn't be a problem on any other day but his truck was in the shop and his wallet was in his work locker so - ex-wife _Uber_ to the rescue.

"So you say, but a one-on-one meeting this early doesn't usually bode well," Frank replied, picking up the conversation about his panic at the earlier call.

"Maybe Mr. Murdock wants to apologize for flirting with you," she teased, laughing at his horrified face. "Sorry, I know you liked it too much to ask him to stop."

"I shouldn't have told you anything," Frank frowned.

"Go big or go home, Frankie," she called from the car before pulling away.

Well, he kept needing reminders of why the divorce was a good idea.

The restaurant was empty so he headed to the locker to get his wallet and track down the boss. He found him sitting on the counter in the kitchen, cowering under Head Chef Foggy's withering glare.

Not exactly what he was expecting. "Everything all right?"

Foggy reached for a cleaver but Matt batted it out of reach with his walking stick. "This - _ignorant_ , _blithering_ , **bastard** \- thinks that woman can come in *my* house - "

"Good morning, Frank, thanks for coming in early. As I was explaining to Foggy - " Matt talked across his friend's sputtering.

"Michaela's not real - everyone knows she's really Elektra!" Foggy blurted out.

"Who's Michaela?" Frank asked.

Matt cleared his throat. "As you already know, my wife was murdered several years ago. She had a twin sister, Michaela, who will be attending a gathering later in the month."

"She doesn't even answer to 'Michaela', you're so full of it," Foggy muttered, crossing his arms. "I refuse to cook for her."

"She doesn't eat," Matt said.

"Your wife has a twin?" Frank blinked. He was confused.

"What do you mean she doesn't eat?" Foggy asked over him.

"She's dead so she doesn't have to eat." Matt tilted his head toward Frank. "Yes, my late wife totally has a twin nobody knew about."

Frank considered what he'd learned.

"Oh. Then. Fine. But - I still don't know why you have to see her, she totally broke your heart," Foggy picked up.

"Because I need to get the suits off my back and that means a meeting. I have to deal with it sometime, Fog," Matt said, hopping off the counter like a cat and leaning into Frank's space. "How's your ex-wife?"

Frank shivered under the attention. "Nosy.  Alive, though?"

"I'll tell you more, if you're interested in an NDA over drinks," Matt offered in a low, sultry voice.

"I'm right here, _literally_ , right here," Foggy reminded them, reaching for his cooking equipment.

Frank stepped aside. "Top shelf liquor or he gets to bring the cleaver."

"Deal," Matt agreed with a wink behind the shades that Frank filed away for post-NDA reflection.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

"I have a confession to make," Frank sighed when Jessica drifted over to the bar after Luke flipped the open sign.

"God, what _now_?" she groaned but he knew it was mostly for show. "Lay it on me, Soldier."

"I don't get the not-dead wife thing," he replied, placing her beer on a napkin.

She snorted but she didn't hand him an NDA or punch him for speaking out of turn so he waited to see how far he could push.

"You signed the papers, right? Right, you don't care about the classified parts as much as Matt's part, I guess. Well, I'm not exactly an unbiased party in the whole re-telling but - "

"Nobody seems to be a fan of his late wife," Frank said, getting to the point.

"Yeah, _no_." Jessica took a long swallow before continuing. "So let's say there was this blind kid, down on his luck living in an orphanage.  And this old blind guy shows up, teaches him kung-fu, invites him to join a ninja-death-cult when he's barely hit puberty. He says no, old blind guy takes off, life goes on - "

"Wait - " Frank held up his hand.  Hell's Kitchen and ninja-death-cults didn't compute.

"Not making it up. It _matters_ ," Jessica stated. "Forget whatever you saw on TMZ."

"Okay."

"So, Matt goes to college, makes forever-friends with Foggy and meets Elektra. Totally gorgeous, totally into him - sweeps him off his feet.  She convinces him to elope and tour the world with her, fuck college and friends - just - he would have followed her anywhere." She sighed. "A year into their world tour, old blind guy turns up again and - surprise - Matt's new wife was also his 'pupil' but she didn't turn down the invite to aforementioned ninja-death-cult."

"Shit. Really?"

Jessica nodded. "Yeah. Messed him up _bad_. Talk about playing the long game, they had him marked - but it gets worse. Not only was Elektra in the cult, but she accepted the Black Sky position - eternal life to run the circuit of evil, just meant she had to die to take her new position."

"She was playing him the whole time?" Frank whispered, irrationally angry at the woman he'd never met.  He's not sure about the ninja or cult part but he was catching the gist.

Jessica sighed again but slowly turned her mouth up into a smile. "Matt fucked them all, though. He was pre-law and with her assets - he had all kinds of caveats written into the pre-nup to keep people from thinking he was taking her money which conveniently included a full will. So when she decided to go out in a dramatic flurry of blood on international television - he took full control of all her residual assets, including her stake in the ninja-death-cult's finances. She moved everything under her name before she became The Black Sky and accidentally left Matt with all the keys to her evil empire."

Frank put both hands flat on the counter. "Full stop."

"You're not working for a rising super-villain, if that's what you're worried about but that's for another NDA," she rolled her eyes. "He twists the knife every day he wakes up alive - he got his hooks into the corporation and - poof - murder and general evil is no longer part of the job descriptions. They seemed _shocked_ at how much their turnover rate improved when they stopped sending all their employees on ninja raids or sacrificing them to dragons."

"So if he dies - " Frank parsed out.

"Not gonna happen on my watch, but we stay on top of it. So yeah, Matt loved the fuck out of his wife, but she was never the woman he thought she was. But at least she used to have a soul and feelings before she sacrificed it to be the ninja overlord she is today."

"Ouch. Fuck. That wasn't in my meeting at all," Frank said finally.

"All you really need to know is that Matt likes you, but he's got shit-tons of baggage. He's not allowed to date anyone that doesn't know the deal which hasn't been a problem in - hell, ever - since he doesn't date."

"But Karen said - "

"He has _flings_ , sure, but he doesn't date," she repeated with narrowed eyes. _Oh_.  "But he likes you, enough to find a loophole to bring you in on the most glaring of his secrets sooner rather than later. He wants to invite you to the party as his plus 1."

Frank didn't know if he was interested in a guy with ninja-death-cult problems, no matter the sparks between them.

" _Huh_. Honestly, he won't blame you if you want to bow out."

"I like this job," he protested.

"Not the job, Asshole, his _crush_. If you tell him you're not interested, he'll back off, no foul," she added quietly. "It's why he did the info-dump before asking you out."

"But he didn't tell me any of this, you did," Frank reminded her.

"You didn't ask him any of this or he would have," she countered, draining the bottle and sliding it politely to the side as she got to her feet as a cluster of servers approached with tickets. "Back to work."

 

* * *

 

Matt accepted his first drink of the evening and waited patiently for Frank to get the courage to talk to him. He'd thought the bartender's increased pulse and clumsy misfire of his drink had been nerves and he hated himself for the mistake. Frank was going to turn him down because of his undead wife.

"You look like you already know what I'm going to say," Frank said, drying his hands with a sigh when he leaned against the bar.

Matt rattled the ice in his glass and smiled when Frank immediately saw his mistake, but he kept it out of his reach. "Don't waste it."

"Guess you could tell I'm distracted. You dropped a lot of bombs on me today and Jones filled me in on what you left out."

_Ah_. So Frank had nibbled on the bait until he got the whole bite without taking the hook. Smart. "It's a lot to take in."

"I feel a little on the spot," Frank admitted with a tired exhale. "I like this gig, like the people and the atmosphere, all that - even like my boss," he smiled. "But I'm not cut out for whatever you've got going on with your ex's business and, well, your ex in general."

"But you'll stay on at the restaurant?" Matt asked.

"I'm 22 days into a 90 probation period and I'm already making double my old tips - plus - I didn't sign that NDA for nothing," Frank replied quietly. No malice, just a little curiosity and maybe disappointment in his voice (but he could be projecting).

He had to keep his employees happy, and his friends happier so he raised his glass in a sign of understanding. "Noted."

"Just like that?" Frank asked, heartbeat steady. He seemed surprised.

"I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable, but I'm glad you signed the NDA. It makes it easier for me to be myself," Matt said. His phone buzzed and he hoped he didn't look too relieved at the rescue. "Excuse me."

Before he could swipe his finger to answer, Luke appeared at his side. "Daddy Warbucks sent a car for you."

"Fucker," Matt muttered. He paused long enough to pluck the ice out of his glass into the napkin and drain it before he took his stick and jacket from Luke and finally raised the phone. He tuned out Frank's tangible curiosity and focused on the call. "What is it?"

_"Lizards in Albany, can you make the jet?_ " Tony Stark clipped in his ear.

"Guess that depends on where this car takes me."

_"Awesome, see you in twenty."_

He turned to Luke. "Tell Fog - "

"He makes you a plate every night whether you're here or not, go," Luke said.

"Hold the fort," he said and went to punch away his mood on some lizards.

 

* * *

 

"You're spicy today," Natasha said, ducking the tail of one lizard as she slashed the skin of another.

"Just because he runs a restaurant doesn't mean everything has to be about food," Clint complained from a rooftop three blocks over.

"Just because you're hungry doesn't mean everything's about food - and no one was talking to you," Wanda chimed in, spinning swirls of magic out of Matt's periphery.

Stark called him a 'snowflake' because of his specifications in battle - but Wanda's magic threw off his senses if she was too close, just like Rhodey and Falcon's suits did; but in urban areas, it was safer for them to hold the perimeter to minimize damage so sometimes Matt had a place on the squad.

Matt flung his baton and ricocheted off three lizards before catching it in his hand again. "Context?"

"She means something's bothering you. We're all friends here, so is it about the party?" Steve asked - hell, he was going high, higher than Clint.

"Not really," Matt replied and realized too late he had fallen into their trap.

"That means yes - is Elektra - " Natasha latched on immediately.

"You're not supposed to talk to her - "

"I thought you got a restraining order - "

"I thought her name was Michaela - "

Steve's voice cut everyone off. "Found the Mama Lizard, anybody nearby want to come shoot a laser at my shield?"

" _Heading to you_ ," Tony spoke, audible from Natasha's nearby earpiece. " _Somebody cover the devil's ears, don't want him to blow a drum before someone gets the scoop._ "

"Glinda the Good Witch activated," Wanda said, giving Matt warning before engulfing him and Natasha by default in a magic bubble. He didn't know what it looked like from the outside, but his vision dulled inside the cushion and all he could hear were Wanda and Natasha's heartbeats pounding in sync with his own. He still sensed the energy burst when Tony and Steve did their thing and he staggered a step until they caught his arms.

Natasha squeezed his forearm. "You know I'll kill her for you, all you have to do is ask."

"She's not allowed to upset you anymore," Wanda added quietly.

"It's not about El. I almost asked a guy out and he preemptively turned me down because of 'baggage'. It's not about El."

Wanda clucked her tongue. "Indirectly it is, but it's not a reason to be 'spicy'."

"I'll kill him for you," Natasha offered.

The women's communicators broke the peace. _"Mama Lizard is down and the weird sound frequencies are over so you guys can stop holding hands and come back to work now,_ " Tony said. " _I'll buy the drinks if we need to give the devil a pep talk before we drop him back in hell."_

"I don't need a pep talk," Matt muttered, crouching in preparation for Wanda's magic shield to recede and diving at the first lizard he sensed within punching distance.

"Can we go somewhere that serves food?" Clint called.

 

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

"Boss still giving you the cold shoulder?" Maria asked, breaking his attention on the backyard where Lisa and Frankie were harassing their stepfather.

Frank wished it was that simple. "Nah, business as usual. But - "

"But?"

He sighed. "What if I messed up? Because I still like the bastard, I still - "

Maria covered his hand with hers. "Then do something about it. I've never known you to choose the easy way out of anything and I'm still a little confused as to why you turned him down in the first place."

"I only believe about half of what they told me. What if it's a money laundering front or - "

Maria laughed and he frowned. "Oh, Frank, considering 75% of my family is retired mafia, is that really the problem?"

Frank liked that she didn't mention the other 25% were practicing mafia. "I finally felt like I was getting to a good place in my life on my own. I don't want to fuck up what little traction I've made."

"Your therapist say anything about putting off dating?"

"No, he's supportive of me making friends. And moving on, whatever," Frank admitted. "And it's not the 'dating' part, I go on dates sometimes."

"But you're used to having a wife, not a girl or boyfriend," Maria said, reminding him getting married at 18 had skewed their definitions. "You didn't even give the dating a chance this time, so I assumed whatever you found out was bad enough to scare you off the idea."

He shrugged. "Not 'scare', just reconsider."

"I don't know the guy, Frank, but I know he's all you've talked about since you got the job. If you're not scared of getting fired, and you're not scared of backsliding into your PTSD treatment - then what's the real problem?"

"Baggage," Frank replied.

She scoffed. "Like your ex-wife, two-kids and six months of inpatient mental health treatment doesn't count as 'baggage'?"

He politely gave her the middle finger.

"Seriously?"

"Maybe I made the wrong call, but I've got time to figure it out. At least I know he'll say yes if I ask him out, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "Disappointed in you."

He deserved that. "How about I apologize and whisper my best sweet nothings in his ear before I ask him out?"

"No comment. Go save Dale from the kids and call them in for dinner, the pizza should be here any minute."

 

* * *

 

 

It seemed slightly ridiculous that Frank hadn't considered the 'ninja' part of the situation until it was thrown in his face.

It was early for dinner rush but the restaurant was filled as usual with designer-clad high-rollers eager to drop 100 bucks on an appetizer vetted by Matt's world-renowned palate.

Frank had never seen Matt eat in the dining room, he took his meals in the back with Foggy and the servers but he was seated in his regular corner of the bar with his correctly prepared expensive scotch. He hadn't found a good time to bring up his second thoughts on anything when Matt tilted his head.

He waited for a witty comment about a table or a server but Matt's face was unreadable until he dropped out of sight and a dagger lodged into the wall in his place.

It wasn't like any fight he'd seen - and Frank had seen (and participated in) a lot o fights in his life. He watched for a long moment before he fully processed that that the customers were on their feet throwing punches and kicks like a Bruce Lee movie. And the fucking staff - Matt leading the way - were holding their own.

The guy that tipped him 20 bucks for a foreign beer half an hour ago dove across the bar with a knife and Frank forgot all about watching the show and tried not to die.

He took care of three assholes that probably thought he was an easier mark than the acrobatic ninjas in the dining room but everything seemed to stop when a guy in a nicer suit than Matt's - which was a nice fucking suit - took center stage.

He had Matt by the throat, fingers digging grooves into his neck as he raised him off the floor, hissing something in a language Frank didn't know.

"Don't speak Asshole," Matt coughed but he seemed to be paralyzed by an unseen force.

The guy pulled a sword and yells came from all sides before a bright flash of gold light shattered the moment. Matt lunged backwards, suddenly mobile and kicked off his chest in a perfect backflip to land on one knee several feet away as a katana sliced through the air.

"You know I got you, Brah," Danny Rand said as the assassin's head tumbled to the floor a moment before the body fell. Frank barely caught the words but the tide tangibly turned in the chaos and the ninjas resumed their assault, albeit less enthusiastically with their newly headless honcho.

"Where's - " Matt panted, hoarse from the choking as he tossed his hand out for a heft up.

"Here," Colleen Wing replied, catching his fingers and levering him to his feet for a quick brush off. "Triangle." Matt fell into position with the two celebrities and proceeded to kick general ass in a flurry of almost choreographed attack.

Frank managed to snap his attacker's grip and knock him out against the bar with a shove to the floor. God, why didn't they have a pistol back here?

" _Clear_!" Trish called from the back with Luke and Jess echoing from the lobby and stairwell.

"Fucking clear," Matt huffed out and Frank watched the trio spin-kick the last few ninjas to the floor.

" _Were they all ninjas? I wasted all that Kobe beef on fucking ninjas_?" Foggy's voice drifted from the kitchen.

Jessica had Matt by both arms as Rand and his girlfriend examined his neck. He made his way around the bar to survey the surprisingly high body count considering the minimal property damage. "Go home, do _not_ pass Go, do _not_ stop for snacks, go the fuck home."

"Mandatory debrief," Matt said after a short pause.

That didn't match with ninjas, that matched with -

"No, we got this, you were nowhere near the restaurant today, you were running very late. Go. Now," Jessica insisted.

Luke stepped in, dropping a cloth napkin over the severed head on the floor. "Wait - they'll want a count of how many of these guys are actual casualties and how many - "

Frank glanced at one of the goons and saw black goop instead of red blood puddled around the body.

Matt tilted his head - the fucker was counting heartbeats - he was a goddamn blind ninja savant, that's how he always knew when the tables were tetchy.  Fuck, Frank was dumb. "Three drivers outside - "

"Ours," Luke replied, continuing across the room to stand beside Frank.

" I recognize all the staff by sound or blood, no human casualties. Nobu - I don't know who he works for - " Matt said slowly.

Jessica swooped into action."Doesn't matter to you, its none of your actual business because you are not here."

"I can drive him," Frank said immediately.

"Nope because they'll need a statement from us. Self-defense and all that. Settle down, you're setting him off," Luke added quietly. "We know what we're doing."

Frank bit back a protest since the kitchen staff and servers trickled into the room, chatting amicably as they wiped split lips and knuckles on wet-naps as they passed. Jessica had Matt zipped into his coat and fitted a stocking cap on his head. When Matt rolled it down to cover his eyes and most of his face - Frank put all the pieces together.

"I'm gonna need that second NDA stat," Frank murmured and considering Daredevil's slight tic at the door, he was pretty sure Matt got his message. "He was tired last week from fighting iguanas in Albany," he realized.

Luke chuckled. "Maybe hungover from the post-battle bar crawl. Danny's our liaison for Hand, aka, ninja, related issues. Matt's clearance means everything gets complicated. We can tell the cops the truth, they'll redact what they need and we'll open on time tomorrow."

Frank was pretty sure he'd be tracking down Matt Murdock before his shift tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

  
Matt didn't go home. Well, he _started_ to, spotted six ninjas on the way and redirected himself to Brooklyn. Six rooftops and a leap up a broken fire escape got him to his target and he paused at the window until the hammer clicked off on Bucky's gun.

"One of these days, Devil," he muttered when Matt climbed through his window. Matt froze again to let the six trained dogs, fluffy shepherds of some kind, swarm and sniff him for approval. Bucky snapped his metal fingers and they hurried over to him.

"Sorry."

"No you're not," Bucky replied, returning his attention to whatever trashy reality show he was addicted to this week.

Matt didn't bother sitting down on the couch, leaving the man to his dogs and turning to sit with his back to the wall so he could focus on the unfamiliar yet steady rhythm of Brooklyn through the window.

At some point, Steve's cat crawled into his lap and pushed needle claws through his six hundred dollar suit pants. He didn't dare pet the bastard when she was making muffins out of his sore muscles but he did pull the buzzing phone out of his pocket.

"Nope. You stay there," Bucky said, snatching the phone and pressing a cold compress against his throat in a single motion. "Don't care."

Matt held the rag against his sore neck and leaned his head back against the wall and clocked Bucky returning to his recliner. "Don't fuck with my settings," he called out finally.

Bucky grunted a non-reply. The whole reason he came here was because Bucky hated to talk almost as much as he hated other people to talk.

He tried to focus on the street noise again but all he could hear was the low hum of the faked heartbeats that he'd missed in his own goddamn restaurant. He should have known they were golems, that they weren't real. _Dead_.

The room started to shrink around him. A taxicab with a transmission problem zoomed past. A rat was caught in a coffee can three blocks away. Matt couldn't breathe.

The Hand would follow him anywhere, _everywhere_.

 _"Hey. Stop hyperventilating. The_ fuck _is wrong with you?"_

He wasn't a coward. That was wrong. He pushed himself to his feet, sending the cat scrambling.

"Where are you going? It's not even fucking dark yet."

"I'm going home just like I was told," he muttered, clenching his fists and plotting his trip back to the Kitchen.

 

* * *

 

Most of the staff had been dismissed for the day but Frank lingered, trying to wait long enough to demand someone let him talk to Matt.

"Apparently it's raining ninjas all over town," one of the unlabeled agents told Jess with a pointed look. "They must've followed your boy home."

"Christ," she hissed and Frank again wondered why there wasn't a gun within his reach.

"What's that mean?" he asked her when the agent fucked off to drag another body into the Hazmat truck.

"It means he's on the hunt and he'll be in all the goddamn papers tomorrow," she replied, furiously texting. "Plus, he ditched his phone so I can't track him. _Danny_! You think you can find Matt?"

The kid frowned and it was out of place on his cherubic face. "I'm totally not allowed to parkour before nightfall, or at _least_ dusk - and I've got to get in the office and find out who's pulling the strings. The restaurant's always been off limits."

"That party he's throwing is what, next week? Nice excuse to get everyone in one place for a coup, is anybody even watching his place?" Frank asked.

"Colleen! We gotta go now!" Danny bellowed and disappeared into the back.

Jessica raised the phone to her ear. "What? Shit, _no_ , we - _no_ \- assassination attempt - the _fuck_ , no, we've got it, you don't need to call - **no**. He comes to your place because you don't make him talk and he's having a lot of feelings right now - don't you _fucking_ dare, Barnes - "

 _Barnes_? Frank thought the Winter Soldier was in retirement overseas. He'd been watching the celebrity news for tidbits on Matt Murdock when he should have been paying more attention to the Avengers and their rotating rosters.

"Shit," Jessica muttered, shoving her phone in her pocket.

"Share with the class?"

"Apparently Matt's more upset than I thought if he went to Barnes for quiet time. I can't deal with you right now - please, do me a solid and go home, the courier will bring you the NDA without having to wade through cops and feds to find you."

Frank held his ground. "Can I take a detour by his place?"

"Don't recommend it, you'll probably end up in Barnes' rifle sight if you head over now." She sighed. "Leave a window open."

 

* * *

 

_"Whoa, stand down! You with me, Double D?"_

Matt paused at the familiar voice and zoned in on the heartbeat. "Spider-Man."

"Hi! Mind giving me a little more?  Your friends are worried and I need proof of sanity before I can tell you anything."

It took too long for the words to process through the noise. "I'm - "

" _Ouch_ , never mind, Bucky said your throat was shredded, can I come down? I'm coming down - don't punch me - "

Peter was away at school, what was - "Am I in Queens?"

"Nope, why don't you tell me where you _think_ you are?" He didn't flinch as Peter patted him down, for injuries not weapons, and muttered unhappily as he nudged Matt to sit down on an air conditioning unit.

He tried to focus while Peter chattered to the computer built into his suit. " _Tell Jess I found him and he's totally cool, not disassociated at all, nope, totally lucid."_

Peter was a _great_ damn kid.

 _"Some ice-packs and superglue maybe. Gotta go_ ," Peter said, bracketing his face with his gloved fingers. "Are you going to make me a liar, Matt?"

He leaned his forward, resting his head on the kid's shoulder. "No. _Sorry_."

Peter wrapped his arms around him in a firm hug that he wouldn't allow from anyone else. "Don't apologize. Time to walk it off, you ready?"

"Can't go home. Ninjas," he admitted.

"Not taking you home, figured the smell of all the black goop would get to you. You've had a long day considering how many I saw down when I swung past," Peter said, letting him take his moment of zen from the half-ass hug. "Counted ten in the lobby."

"They touched my stuff," Matt confessed, stepping back to try and shake out of the numbness.

"No fair - your restaurant _and_ your apartment? They're getting in your head, man, you tried to teach me this lesson years ago - let's get Daredevil off the streets so you can regroup, yeah?"

 **Shit**. "Where are we again?"


	6. Chapter 6

  
Frank heard them before they reached his window, a voice he didn't recognize peppering Matt with questions.

"Are you sure this is the right address? Stranger danger is a real thing, you know - "

"I didn't give you the address, shouldn't you have confirmed with whoever called you?"

He waved when he saw Spider-Man's mask pop into view but Matt was the first one that tumbled in from an unseen nudge. He landed on his knees and slid into a sitting position with a sigh. "Frank?"

"Hey," he replied, glad he remembered to mute the TV with all the reports of 'bloodless bodies of ninjas' being found all over the city. Daredevil was not someone to fuck with, but Matt just looked exhausted.

Spider-Man spotted the news ticker immediately and shook his head, helping Matt to his feet. "Hi, I'm just here for moral support, can you give us a minute?"

"He signed the papers," Matt said. Spider-Man shrugged and snapped off his mask to reveal a college-shaped kid. "What are you doing in town?"

"Fall break, I was going to come by the restaurant tomorrow to say hello," the kid replied. "Are you - "

"He was a busboy for a couple of summers, worst we ever had," Matt said vacantly to Frank.

"Peter," Spider-Man introduced himself. "Can you make some coffee or tea for his throat?"

"Sure," he shrugged, moving into the attached kitchen to switch on his coffeemaker. "You guys need to call anyone?"

"Not until he's steadier," Peter replied. "Who are you?"

"New bartender. Karen's pick," Matt answered.

"You're not convincing anyone that you're okay by answering other people's questions," Peter said.

Matt tugged out of the kid's hold and sat down on the couch, smoothing his fingers over the faded fabric. Most of Frank's furniture was off Craigslist or gifted by Maria and Dale so it probably wasn't up to rich guy Murdock's standards but he didn't think that version was in his apartment right now.

"All right, dude, head's up," Peter said, cupping Matt's chin and forcing him to pay attention. "Remember what you used to tell me when I was half-assing term papers because of aliens?"

"Get your shit together," Matt replied.

"Right, exactly - and now I've almost got my second degree and you've almost got all your Michelin stars - so it's my turn to say it to you - get your shit together. You've come too far to have a white-out over this."

"Huh. Kid makes a lot of sense," Frank said, bringing over a mug of coffee.

"It's not supposed to overlap," Matt said, taking the coffee with swollen fingers. Guy must have been punching bare-fisted all over town. "They're trying to smoke me out and it's working. Do we know how they got reservations?"

Peter answered, relaxing now that Matt seemed to be taking an interest in reality again. "They found a warehouse full of hostages that seemed more upset about losing their spots on your insane waiting list than the whole 'kidnapped by ninjas'. They're not dead."

"What kind of ninjas take hostages?" he frowned. "Those punks at the restaurant were definitely out for blood."

Matt sighed. "My blood, they would've killed them if I'd gone down. Elektra's behind it."

Peter and Frank glanced at each other but he wasn't going to talk out of turn on that. Peter lowered his voice. "How do you get that, Matty?"

"Don't call me that, I'm not bleeding. Wait, am I bleeding?" Matt paused.

"Little bit," Frank admitted.

"There's no going back if the Hand starts killing again while I'm in charge," Matt said. "SHIELD will swoop in hard and fast; the only reason I'm still holding the seat is because they want to see it play out."

"At least you're admitting that now," Peter said, turning to Frank. "Can you keep him inside and off the streets for a while? I need to get home and make some calls."

"Thanks, Peter. I'm glad you were around," Matt said, tugging the guy in for a hug. "Tell your aunt I'm sorry for stealing her time."

"Expect a muffin basket in your future, Double D," Peter grinned, slipping on his mask and darting through the window with a wave.

"Never tell my kids you know him, they love that guy," Frank said after a long beat.

"Hey. Thanks for leaving your window open."

"Don't make it a habit," Frank said. "I expect you to use the door from now on."

 

* * *

 

"You've got a nice place," Matt said after he'd patched himself up in Frank's bathroom. "Most other bachelors I know live in filth."

"Blame the marines, not my ex-wife's list of very specific living conditions for children," Frank said. "How can you even tell?"

"I haven't tripped over anything since I've been here. Why are you more comfortable with me now that I'm on the edge of the abyss?" Matt asked. He couldn't handle Frank's unwavering calm.

Frank shifted. "I didn't get it before, with the ninjas."

Matt didn't get what there was to get.

"Your ex didn't scam you because you were some weak blind orphan she could turn into a puppet - she picked you because you're a badass ninja prodigy."

"Oh." That wasn't promising. "Well, the first part's still true."

"No, it's not. They groomed you, sure, but in the end you said 'fuck 'em' and became a superhero instead of a fake widower with regrets," Frank said.

"I'm not a superhero," Matt said.

"I didn't have all the pieces before. I pictured the whole 'Chaste Hands' thing as a business even though you told me it was a ninja death cult but - I didn't make the connection until those bastards started swinging swords. Hell, I'm having a hard time remembering to take my meds every day and you're dealing with undead assassins and business bullshit? You might be having a bad day - but you've got your shit together."

"That's not how it works."

Frank shrugged. "You can explain it to me later, first date small talk or something. How are you doing?"

_Huh_.

 

 


End file.
